


Savage Measures

by AlanSchezar



Series: The Zootopia Chronicles [5]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action, Angst and Tragedy, Anthropomorphic, Depression, Detective Noir, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Gritty, Gunplay, Murder Mystery, Police, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-08 21:18:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11090124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlanSchezar/pseuds/AlanSchezar
Summary: Fifteen years before Judy Hopps donned the badge and made history, Eli Wolfram witnessed his partner and mentor make the ultimate sacrifice to save him from murderous thugs. Teetering on the edge of despair, Eli quickly discovers that Grizzwald's murder isn't as simple as it seems, and sometimes the line between right and wrong, good and evil, justice and vengeance, becomes indistinct. Desperate to bring Grizzwald's true killers to justice, Eli steps into the dark underworld of Zootopia and learns that treacherous times call for savage measures.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bonus: The "sound track" to this story, with songs that provide inspiration for various parts of the story  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLrzo3LZnd6tpQRNIY9k5flEVR6aaOBpK0

Eli Wolfram steadied himself, drawing a slow breath as he prepared to hear his name called. In moments, he would ascend the steps to the stage and accept his badge from the Commandant of Zootopia Police Academy. It was the culmination of six grueling months of blood, sweat, pain and perseverence, the realization of a dream that began when he was only ten or eleven. At the moment, he was trying to convince himself that it didn't matter whether or not his family was present to witness it.

Their approval, their support, their opinions about his chosen career – what did they matter? He didn't care. He didn't choose to become a cop for them. What he cared about was serving the cause of justice, being the best cop he could be, and trying to make the world just a little bit better every day he went out on the beat. He didn't give a damn what his family thought of it, and he reminded himself of that one more time as he heard Commandant Bedford call his name.

He stood rigidly to attention, his body moving almost of its own accord after months of drill instruction and discipline being hammered into him by the trainers. He marched sharply toward the stairs leading up to the stage, turned and began to ascend, his long, slender legs taking the steps two at a time. In spite of himself, he cast a sidelong glance over the crowd; his lips drew into a taut line as he saw no familiar faces among the gathered family and friends of the graduating class. It didn't matter, he told himself; he would defy their hostility with excellence.

He halted in front of Commandant Bedford, a middle-adged takin with slightly upswept horns and pale, straw coloured fur, and delivered a sharp salute. His fingertips hovered precisely at the edge of his forage cap's mirror-shined black brim for a moment before Bedford returned the salute and they both dropped their arms back to the position of attention. Bedford stepped forward, and with the simple gesture of pinning the gold shield of the Zootopia Police Department on Eli's chest, transformed him into _Officer_ Eli Wolfram.

Eli's smile was irrepressible. He took a deep breath, working to contain his excitement and maintain a professional bearing.

"Well done," the Commandant said quietly, clasping his hooves behind his back and regarding Eli with a bemused half-smile, "You've excelled in every aspect your training, despite the initial assessment by a few of your peers that you were merely a 'pampered pseudofox.' It seems you more than proved them wrong. It's my pleasure to assign you to Precinct One, the city center, Officer Wolfram."

"Thank you sir," Eli said with a slight nod, forcing himself not to grin like a giddy fool, "I won't let you down."

Commandant Bedford responded with merely a nod and a knowing smile.

Eli stepped back, saluted sharply, then turned on his heel and marched off the stage. Resuming his seat, he couldn't help but trace his fingertips over the five pointed star that stood out in bass relief from the center of his badge. With his smile refusing to fade, he watched his fellow cadets take their turn on stage one after another, each returning to the cheers and embraces of their family in the audience. Only a few graduates remained when he suddenly felt a paw come to rest on his shoulder from behind.

He started and spun in his seat, finding his younger brother Ezra's sheepishly grinning face staring back at him. He perked a brow and set his jaw, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nice of you to show up," he said.

"Sorry I'm late," Ezra said, slightly bowing his head and shrinking back in his seat, his paws clasped penitently in his lap, "Dad wouldn't let me use the car today, for some reason, and I got caught up late consulting with the Fellow in emerg at the end of shift. The trains can be murder if you don't beat the rush."

"Wouldn't let you have it today of all days, huh?" Eli said flatly, a faint sneer curling his lip "Imagine that." He sighed and shook his head, averting his gaze to the horizon for a moment as he collected his thoughts. "Don't sweat it, Ez," he said, a smile returning to his lips, "I'm glad you came."

"Me too!" Ezra said, his ears perking up, "You look great! Real snappy marching up there and all." Three years younger than Eli, he was a few inches shorter and had a huskier build in comparison to Eli's lean, lanky six foot frame. He was still dressed in the brown sweatervest, green tie and white lab coat he wore on shift as a Resident at Zootopia General. His wheat gold eyes, a trait he inherited from their mother, bore none of the hardness that Eli and their father shared in common. The brightness of those eyes made it hard to stay annoyed with him, no matter how infuriatingly milquetoast he could be at times.

"Think you can make it out for a few pints after the ceremony?" Eli offered, slinging his elbow over the back of the chair, "I think a few of the guys are going to hit the pub in town for a while."

"Sorry!" Ezra said, "I can't...Dr. Oates wants me to come in for a graveyard, says there should be some great learning opportunities tonight in acute emerg, since it's Friday and all."

Eli frowned, "Another double, Ez? Come on, when's the last time you slept?"

"I had a nap at lunch!" he replied, "It's no big deal! Dad used to pull all kinds of extra long shifts back when he was an emerg doc. You worry too much."

"Yeah, well you're not dad," Eli said, his brows knit in consternation and his mane flaring unconsciously, "And I'm your big brother; it's my job to watch out for you – heaven knows someone has to."

"Come on, don't be sore, Eli," Ezra pleaded, making heavy use of his bright, innocent eyes, as if by instinct, "I'll make it up to you sometime, take you for a burger or something, like old times, okay?"

Eli shot him an annoyed glance over his shoulder that quickly melted in the face of his brother's puppy eyes routine. He smirked and reached back, furiously ruffling the mane between Ezra's ears. "Sure, kid, whatever you say," he said with a chuckle.

"Hey, quit it!" Ezra said with a laugh.

Eli turned back around, crossing his arms over his chest with a faint chuckle. The final cadet was just receiving his badge, and then the Commandant resumed the podium to deliver the commencement speech.

Once the ceremony had ended, Ezra rose from his seat and gave Eli a pat on the shoulder. "See you soon, Eli," he said, "Sorry I can't stay."

"It's fine. Later, Ez," Eli said, waving over his shoulder. He remained in his seat, staring at the huge banner at the back of the stage emblazoned with the crest of the ZPD. He stared with an unfading smile on his muzzle, waiting until most of the mammals had filed out of the roped off area on the field before rising from his seat and strolling toward the exit.

Eli was about to pass out of the roped-off section when he suddenly heard a gruff, bass-toned voice say, "Now there's the face of an eager rookie!" The words were interwoven with a faint chuckle. He looked up suddenly, jolted from his train of thought, and found himself staring up at the broad, cheerful face of a large male brown bear.

The bear was dressed in an immaculately pressed ZPD duty uniform, his broad, meaty paws resting on the front of his duty belt. The three chevrons beneath his shoulder flash denoted his rank as Sergeant. He regarded Eli with a bemused smirk that spread into a grin as he saw the confusion on Eli's face. He spoke with a deep, resonant voice that was faintly rough around the edges, but which had a warm, folksy quality to it.

"Name's Grizzwald," he said, holding out his massive paw, "I'll be your field coach for the next year, assuming you make it that long."

Eli snapped into a sharp salute, following it up by shaking Grizzwald's paw. "Pleased to meet you, sir!" he said, "Although I'm a bit surprised to be meeting you today."

"I was in the area and thought I'd pop by and size you up before we start tomorrow morning," he said, "I read your file from training. You're an interesting character. Almost got punted for fighting a lion, huh?"

Eli looked chagrined, his jaw tightening. "One of the other cadets took exception to my presence at the academy, said I was nothing but a 'filthy stilt fox'. He decided to make his point by assaulting me. I informed him I wasn't a fox and he should back off."

"By laying him out with a haymaker to the jaw, so I hear," Grizzwald said, unable to repress his smirk.

"I had no other difficulties after that, sir," Eli said flatly.

"Imagine that," Grizzwald said with a faint chuckle. He adjusted his belt with a sigh, returning to his previous relaxed posture. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to your party," he said, "I'm sure your family will want to celebrate with you."

Eli averted his gaze, letting his arms hang at his sides, "Actually, my family isn't here. I thought I'd just review my training materials and get to bed early."

Grizzwald furrowed his brow, studying Eli with a quizical look. At length he said, "Say, think you might like to start a bit early and come on night shift with me tonight? I'm sure the Captain won't have a problem with it."

Eli's eyes lit up and he turned back to Grizzwald with a look that was a mixture of shock and excitement. "Oh...of course! Absolutely!" he said, unable to keep a huge grin from spreading across his muzzle, "That would be fantastic, sir!"

"Just one rule," Grizzwald said, smiling at Eli's blatant excitement.

"What's that, sir?"

"Quit calling me 'sir'; I work for a living."

"Yes si-Sergeant Grizzwald," he said, catching himself, "When shall I meet you at the station?"

"Be there five sharp," Grizzwald said, turning and waving over his shoulder, "See you then. Oh, and just call me Gus."

-~~<0>~~-

Eli was standing just outside the door that led into the motor pool at precisely five o'clock, his uniform crisply pressed and forage cap perched squarely on his head. He fidgeted nervously with his duty belt, silently checking off his kit as he ran his fingertips over each item in turn.

Just as he checked the retention on his pistol, Grizzwald sauntered out the doors and into the fading light of evening. The bear flashed an easy grin and gave Eli a pat on the shoulder with his massive paw. "Ready to ride, young fella?" he said, continuing on toward one of the cruisers parked in the yard.

"Never been more ready for anything, s– _Gus!_ " Eli said, falling in step beside his field coach, "I feel like I was born for this...I can't believe I'm actually a cop!"

Gus replied with a knowing, bemused chuckle, though the sound was devoid of sarcasm. "I've heard that kind of talk before...hell, I know the feeling, but there's something more I'd like to know..." he said, a cryptic note to the words. He opened the cruiser door and sat down behind the wheel, reaching across and popping the lock for Eli.

Eli climbed in and shut the door. He quickly buckled his seatbelt and sat back in the bucket seat that engulfed and towered over him. He stared forward expectantly, but when the engine didn't roar to life and the car remained motionless, he glanced over at his coach with a confused look.

He found Gus studying him with an intense, searching gaze. Eli furrowed his brow in reply.

There was a brief pause before he spoke, "Why did you really become a cop, Wolfram?"

"I..."

"No bullshit," Gus said, his voice quiet but stern.

"I..." Eli hesitated a moment; he turned his gaze back to the windshield, "Maybe it sounds corny...but it's because I believe in...because I love justice. Because there is evil in this world, and I want to stand up and fight it. Because I want to protect the innocent and hold the guilty accountable for what they've done. Because I want to make the world a little bit better somehow..."

"Pretty words, but are you willing to die for that?" Gus asked, the second question following hard on the heels of Eli's first answer.

Eli snapped his gaze back to Gus, his jaw firmly set with resolve. "If that's what it takes, then yes," he said, no trace of doubt in his voice.

A smile slowly broke over Gus's features, his strangely intense expression fading back into the relaxed, easygoing one that seemed to be his default. "Glad to hear it," he said, leaning back and firing up the engine, "Because we're going to Happytown."

"I heard ZPD _never_ goes to Happytown..." Eli said, perking a brow at him.

"We go where we're needed, rookie," he said with a faint, knowing grin, "And there's nowhere we're needed more than there."

-~~<0>~~-

The last fingers of dying sunlight were barely clinging to the horizon when they arrived at the ramp that plunged from the interstate down into the dark, claustrophobic streets of Happytown. As the cruiser rumbled down onto the surface streets, Eli and Gus were enveloped in dusky shadows cast by the tightly clustered buildings. Their construction seemed haphazard, with storeys and wings added one on top of another over decades, their rooftops draped and crisscrossed with a network of power cables like the strands of a monumental spider's web.

Gus's words proved to be true; within two blocks they had already passed five police cruisers parked along, or sometimes up on the curb. Mammals teemed everywhere, some walking with heads ducked and eyes darting, seemingly eager to avoid the others, drug-addled vagrants, who wandered seemingly at random along the sidewalks or even across the middle of the road.

He was forced to slam on the brakes when a kudu dressed in shabby, soiled jeans and a ragged old trench coat staggered out in front of the car. Each of his horns was broken in a different place, giving him an off-kilter appearance that perfectly matched the glassy stare in his red-rimmed eyes. He swore at the car and slapped the ram bar on the front with his hoof, but when Gus opened the door and stepped out, towering up to his full height and giving a sharp snort, the kudu scampered off into a dark alley with an unintelligble whimper.

Gus resumed his seat, shutting the door and carrying on down the road. "Heard you were born with a silver spoon in your muzzle, kid," he said after a few moments, noticing that Eli had fallen silent as he studied the scenes of pandemonium outside the windows with keen interest, "Never seen the likes of this place before, huh?."

"No..." Eli said with a half glance at Gus, "It's hard to know where to start with this mess..."

"You'll figure it out pretty quick," Gus said, "This is the best place for you to start out – jump in with both paws, as they say."

"What's with this place anyway?" Eli said, looking away from the window and back at Gus, "How did it get like this?"

"Happytown was supposed to be a real nice, but affordable housing project giving preference to preds, due to 'historical disadvantages.' Unfortunately, the whole thing went off the rails pretty quick, even before it was finished..." Gus began, leaning back in his seat and letting his paws drop to the bottom of the wheel, "The company responsible for the development got accused of trying to ghettoize preds as part of some supposed anti-pred conspiracy. Well, as often happens, the perception became the reality, whether there was any truth to it or not, and a lot of the investors backed out just as quick as they could, leaving the rest to go belly up. It attracted all kinds of drunks, pushers, pimps and whoores, since the whole thing became skid row. Turned out to be a ghetto all right...self-fulfilling prophecy."

Eli mused in silence over this strange history for several minutes as they wound their way through the streets. Finally, they pulled the car up and parked at the curb in front of a well lit diner. It looked like something out of the fifties, with polished chrome accents on naugahyde upholstered stools and chairs. The interior was well lit, and in contrast to the shabby appearance of the rest of the block, it seemed in good repair. Several police cruisers were parked outside and Eli could see a small group of officers inside chatting over coffee.

"What's this place?" Eli asked, following suit as Gus stepped out of the cruiser.

"It's sort of an informal HQ," Gus said, heading toward the door. He swung it open and stepped inside, holding it for Eli who followed in behind. "We tend to start out our shifts here and take breaks and whatnot. What we trade off in security, we get back in goodwill and intel from the residents. It's not much of a trade off anyway – there's rarely fewer than three of us in here at any given time."

They took up a pair of stools at the counter, Gus flashing a toothy grin and a wave to the leathery old ewe behind the counter. "Hey Agnes! Two large coffees for me and the rookie here; it's gonna be a long night," he said in his habitually easy manner.

The old sheep, dressed in a greasy apron that covered a faded floral print dress, plunked a pair of large ceramic mugs on the counter and proceeded to fill them from a big steel carafe she tugged out of the coffee machine against the back wall. "Cream or sugar, greenhorn?" she said in a rough edged voice.

"Black, please," Eli replied, choosing to ignore the epithet.

The ewe let out a throaty chuckle. "You put a lotta faith in my java, young fella," she said, then turned to Gus and added, "Seems you got a tough 'un on your paws, Gus."

"We'll see," Gus replied, his grin broadening. He shot a glance at Eli, who was taking his first sip of the strong, gritty, bitter coffee and trying to suppress a grimace. He downed a longer sip with an air of defiance.

Gus burst out in a hearty laugh. "Yer all right, kid," he said, pouring a generous helping of cream and sugar into his own coffee. "So," he said, setting the creamer down and pausing to take a long sip of coffee, "There're some ground rules you need to know before we hit the beat."

"I'm all ears, coach," Eli said, deciding the coffee wasn't _completely_ intolerable swill and that he was in dire need of the caffeine.

"First off, there's only two groups of mammals you trust down here," Gus continued between sips of coffee, "The first group...is Agnes, and the second is your fellow cops. That's it - full stop."

Eli nodded, taking another long swig of coffee.

"Second, most of the crap they teach you in the academy don't fly down here," Gus went on, "This is nitty gritty policing, right in the trenches, and that by the book crap will get you killed. Stick to your use of force and officer safety training, but take the rest with an entire salt lick, keep your mouth shut and your ears open, and I'll teach you how to survive the streets. Even in Happytown."

Eli nodded again, taking a longer swig this time and considering actually asking for a refill. He glanced at Gus, sensing the bear had more to say. "There's something else?" he said.

"Yeah," Gus said with a nod, "Not everything is what it seems down here. Sometimes the bad guys ain't the ones you think. Even though you _never_ trust 'em, sometimes the tweakers and the whoores are the ones that most need your help, and the ones'll help you the most."

"Tweakers and _whoores_ , check," Eli said, noting the amusingly old-school pronunciation. He flashed a wry grin at his coach as he set down his coffee.

"No time for another," Gus said, rising from his seat and leaving enough cash on the counter to cover both coffees, "Time to hit the streets, rookie!"

Eli scrambled up from his chair, downing the last swig and plunking the mug down hastily. He fell in step behind Gus, following him out the door.

The sun was rapidly retreating up the tenement walls that towered above the dingy streets, cloaking Happytown in shadows as they emerged from the diner. Leaving the cruiser parked there, they turned and began walking together down the street, deeper into the increasingly labrynthine streets and alleys.

The denizens of the streets watched them with obvious suspicion and alertness as they passed by. Some acknowledged their presence with a curt nod or a crooked smile, while others ducked their heads and vanished into alleys or doorways. Precious few spoke a brief, quiet greeting. To each who did, Gus replied with a broad, welcoming smile, though Eli noticed the veteran officer's keen gaze rapidly sizing up each animal he came across.

Suddenly, Gus seemed to fix his gaze on a pair of mammals leaning against a dingy brick wall just outside a convenience store at the corner of an alley. To Eli, they seemed a somewhat odd pair: an ashen and ochre furred female wolf with green eyes, perhaps thirty five years old, dressed in a worn out, slightly-too-skimpy sundress; and a disreputable looking forty-something lynx in a stained blue button-up shirt and jeans with knees almost worn through. He was leaning toward her, speaking quietly with an unpleasant smirk on his muzzle while she listened with an air of mild disinterest.

To Eli's surprise, Gus marched right up, drawing himself to his full height, setting his massive paws on the pouches at the front of his duty belt. "Well well, Jimmy Catsby! I thought I told you to keep your whiskers off my beat and quit talkin' to Irene!" he said with an edge of annoyance in his voice that Eli had yet to hear.

The lynx curled back his lip in a snarl, but seemed to think better of it, moderating his tone before he spoke. "Can't a fella talk to a girl if he wants? Who're you to tell me different?" he said with a tinge of petulance in his words.

"I'm a police officer, and I'm here to tell you it's against the law to solicit a prostitute, and same goes for her!"

"Oh, come on, Gus, can'tcha lay off for once?!" the wolf interjected with a whine.

"Oh, so just because I'm talkin' to a girl, suddenly I'm soliciting, am I?" Jimmy said with an air of defiance, puffing out his chest.

"You're gettin' a bit big for your britches, Jimmy! Back on the junk, are ya?" Gus said. With surprising quickness, he grabbed the lynx by the shoulder and spun him around to face the wall. Before the cat could even protest, Gus had plucked a baggie of black tarry substance, a wad perhaps the side of a penny, from his back pocket. "Well, well, well, _figures!_ " Gus said with disgust in his voice, "So what'll it be, Jimmy? Do I need to book you into the joint again?"

The cat, suddenly deflated, turned around and shrunk away from Gus's towering form. Gus shoved the drugs into his back pocket, pointing a stern finger in the face of the cowering lynx. "If you keep shooting this crap into your veins, one day I'll be calling the coroner to come scrape your carcass out of the gutter, Jimmy!" he said, the faintest hint of a growl in his voice, "You know the way out of Happytown, so get going! Get back to Meadowlands and look up your folks; they might be happy to hear from you."

"I can't go back there-" Jimmy began to protest.

"Give it a shot!" Gus said, grabbing Jimmy and hauling him away from the wall. He gave him a shove down the sidewalk, sending him airborne a short way before he stumbled and got his balance, "Either way, get off my beat and stay off!"

Catsby skulked away, shoving his paws angrily in his pockets, though he dared not look back.

"Why're you such a jerk, Gus?" the wolf piped up again, "Always givin' me such a hard time, tryin' to run me out of business!"

"Yer a whoore; of course I am!"

"Can't you just lay off for once?" she said, her ears folding down and a pout taking over her muzzle.

She would have been very pretty once, Eli noticed, though her features were deeply worn, the luster of her fur badly dulled by the hard life she'd been leading. It was her eyes that most stood out to him, however; they were pale, almost ghostly blue, but dull and waxy. There was a deep, hard sadness in those eyes Eli had never seen before.

"Of course not! Stay off my beat and I'll lay off you," Gus said, "It's as simple as that. You know as long as you're whooring down here, you'll never make a change in your life. You'll end up same as I warned Jimmy about, and you know I don't want to see that Irene."

"I...I know..." she said, a crack sounding in her voice. She turned to leave, but paused and looked directly at Eli. "You've got a good teacher," she said, "He's helped me out a lot...for all the good it's done." She cracked a half smile and gave a brief glance at Gus before heading off on her way, her walk twitchy and vaguely unnatural, a side-effect of the drugs she habitually abused, no doubt.

"Hey," Gus called after her, his paws still resting on his belt, "You get cleaned up and come down and see me, and I'll put in a word for you with the judge myself. I'll be in the office at five tomorrow night."

"O...okay," she said, her smile widening just slightly, "I'll do that, Gus."

Eli watched her depart, puzzling over the strange interaction in his mind, though he remained silent. None of what he had witnessed resembled anything he had been taught at the academy, and yet there was something compelling about it. He had a sense that there was deep conviction and profound caring underlying the bruin's crude, gruff methods.

"How did you know he had drugs on him?" Eli asked, looking up at Gus as they resumed their walk.

"Jimmy's a pussy cat," Gus said with an offhand air, "Only time he'd ever dare stick his chest out and talk back to me is when he's higher than a kite."

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he turned to Gus. "Wait a second, that's it?!" he said, "You're just letting them both walk? What about the drugs?"

Gus let out a chuckle and headed on down the street, motioning for Eli to follow. He turned in the next alley and walked about half way down before descending a narrow staircase that went below the level of the street. He rapped on the steel door three times and waited.

After a brief pause, a voice sounded from inside. "What do you want?" it said.

"It's Gus, open up."

"Oh! Grizzwald, of course, come in!" the voice replied, brightening up considerably. The door swung open to reveal a hoary old raccoon with thick glasses. He was dressed in a dingy wife-beater and grease stained coveralls. "Come in, come in!" he said, a broad, toothy grin on his muzzle, "And your new friend, too! Hello sir, hello! Another delivery, I presume?"

"Of course, Murray," Gus said, "Much obliged, as always."

The racoon turned and led them deeper inside, his long, slender fingers fidgeting incessantly in front of him as he went. They followed him through a door and down a short flight of steps to a large room with a huge boiler in the center. He waddled across the dusty floor and flung open a heavy steel hatch on the side of the boiler, revealing the roaring inferno within. To Eli's surprise, Gus strolled up and tossed the drugs inside, the baggie with its illicit contents vaporizing almost instantly. Murray slammed the door and turned the latch.

"Anything else?" he asked, looking up expectantly with ever-twitching fingers.

"That's it for now," Gus said with a broad, easy grin, "See you next time!"

They were back in the alley before Eli got up the nerve to speak. He stepped in front of Gus and turned to face him. The bear looked at him with a quizzical perk of his eyebrow.

"Now, just a second!" Eli said, "What the heck was that about? You let the lynx walk on possession of Blazer, then you just toss the evidence in a furnace, and that's that? You just violated ten different policies... _at least!_ "

"Oh? Would you rather I booked him and wrote up charges?"

"Well..yeah!"

"Let's think about that for a second, rookie," Gus said, crossing his huge arms over his barrel chest, "So we link up ol' Jimmy, haul him downtown, spend seven or eight hours booking him into jail, another several hours tagging the evidence and writing reports. Before we're done the paperwork, he's out on the street, and if he ever shows for court, the judge gives him a stern finger wag and we're back to square one."

Eli opened his mouth to interject, but Gus cut him off.

"Meanwhile, as we're pissing away our time on useless reports and bullshit, things down here are continuing to circle the bowl," he said, his voice taking on a tone of conviction, "Maybe Irene is getting raped and murdered by a bad John; maybe one of Jimmy's tweaker buddies is OD'ing in an alley, and there's no cop to find him and drag him back to the land of the living; maybe one of these honest shopkeepers is getting robbed at gunpoint, and maybe the scumbag robbing him decides he doesn't want witnesses, and on and on!"

Eli lapsed into silence. Gus went on.

"So, tell me, Wolfram," he said, fixing Eli with a hard stare, "Are you here to fill a well-pressed uniform, wear a shiny badge and follow every procedure to the letter like a good little soldier, or are you here to make a difference in the lives of these mammals?"

"You know the answer to that!" Eli said, the faintest snarl seeping into his words, "I didn't go through all the bullshit I put up with getting here just to fill a uniform and collect a pay cheque!"

Gus's broad grin immediately returned. "Good! Then let's continue with our training night," he said, striding past Eli and back toward the street.

Eli watched him for a moment before following, catching up quickly and falling in step beside him.

They walked the beat for another half an hour or so, Gus interjecting periodically with observations and anecdotes about various mammals they encountered or spotted along the way.

"I think that guy is dealing," Eli said suddenly as they crossed a busy intersection in the crosswalk. He pointed at a hard featured, muscular kangaroo dressed in an old leather jacket, camouflage pants and a green tank top standing near the entrance to an alley in the middle of the block. He had noticed that the kangaroo was standing alone in the middle of a section of blank wall, with no shops, doors or even street vendors to indicate there was any reason to be there.

Gus slowed his pace, looking over and watching the kangaroo intently for a few moments. A wry smile crossed his muzzle and he gave a shrug. "Let's go find out," he said.

It seemed the kangaroo hadn't noticed them, because just as they stepped onto the sidewalk, a black jaguar passed by and there was a furtive paw to paw exchange of something between them, after which the kangaroo glanced around nervously.

Eli felt a thrill run through him as their eyes met when he approached; there was a tinge of fear in the marsupial's eyes before they darted away. "Excuse me, sir, ZPD," Eli began, unable to completely suppress a pleased smirk, "We need to have a word with you..."

"Whadda ya mean, 'sir'!?" a surprisingly effeminate voice said in reply, "The hell do you want, cop!?"

Eli shot a furtive glance at Gus, who chuckled low in his belly. Eli continued after clearing his throat, "Ma'am, what did you just pass to that jaguar?"

Upon hearing himself mentioned, the Jaguar, who was only half a block away, halted mid stride. His ears shot up and he spun on his heel, looking at the kangaroo with terror stricken eyes. She looked at him and her eyes went wide as saucers. She looked back at Eli. " _Oh shit..._ " she hissed.

She was about to bolt, but Gus's massive paw shot out and wrapped around her head, almost completely engulfing it. "Nope, you stay," he said with a grin, "Go get him, rookie! Your time to shine!"

Eli bolted after the jaguar, who had dashed off down the street in wild flight, stumbling and flailing a great deal. With his long, bounding strides, Eli easily overtook him within a block and a half. He grabbed the jaguar's coat with both paws, clenching his fists and wrenching the hapless cat to the side. The jaguar stumbled off balance, slamming into a mailbox at a full run and flipping himself over it. Eli was on him in an instant, straddling his stunned, prostrate form and quickly snapping handcuffs in place. A quick frisk search revealed a packet of Blazer even larger than the one they had taken off of Catsby.

Pleased with himself, Eli finished the pat search and stood the jaguar up, walking him back down the sidewalk to where Gus stood waiting with the already handcuffed kangaroo.

"This is crap!" she protested, glancing from Gus to Eli with a furious look, "I ain't done nothing!"

"Oh really?" Eli said with a wry grin, "Then what's this?" He held up the baggie and the kangaroo's face fell.

"Th...that ain't mine," she said, looking away, "You can't prove nothin'"

"Really? We'll see about that," Eli said. He sat the jaguar down against the wall and proceeded to grab a hold of the kangaroo. "Turn around, spread your feet, lean forward," he said curtly.

She did as she was told and he proceeded to pat her down to no avail. Despite his text book thoroughness, she apparently had nothing hidden in her clothing. Eli, looking mildly crestfallen, glanced at Gus.

"You ain't wrong, kid," Gus said with a faint chuckle, "You just missed a pocket..."

Eli's face took on a horror stricken look, but he swallowed and quickly regained his composure. He glanced down at the suspect's midsection, then back at Gus. The bear simply nodded and smiled.

Eli turned the suspect back around and tried to look as stern and undisturbed as possible. "All right," he said, "The jig is up. Give up the dope."

"I told you I ain't got-"

"In the pouch, ma'am."

She looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Right, exactly! Now you cut the crap and give it up, or we haul you down to the hospital and have the doctor pull it out with forceps...which is it gonna be?" Eli said, his maw set in a grim sneer.

Her shoulders slumped forward and she let out a deep sigh, looking totally defeated. "All right, fine!" she snapped, "Let's get this over with. Cuffs?"

She turned her back toward Gus, who opened the handcuffs and freed her left paw while keeping the other arm twisted up behind her back in case she tried anything. She reached behind her belt buckle, shoving her whole paw into her pouch and yanked out a huge bag full of drugs.

Before he could react, she slapped it into Eli's open paw. Due to her street dwelling lifestyle and general lack of hygiene, the bag was splattered with a film of mucus and gave off a vile, musky odor. He grimaced and tried not to wretch. After a moment, he regained his composure, holding the bag away from his body between his thumb and forefinger. "Ma'am, you're under arrest for possession for the purpose of trafficking," he began, repeating the spiel he'd learned by heart in the academy, "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law...do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, "Whatever...see you in court blah blah blah."

"Dispatch, this is Charlie Zero One," Gus said as he keyed his shoulder mic, "We need a wagon at Elysium Street and Meadow. One in custody."

"Dispatch, ten-four, sending Rhinowitz; ETA ten mikes, over."

"Charlie Zero One, ten-four," Gus replied.

Wolfram sat the kangaroo down beside the jaguar, jotting down their bio data in his notebook along with details of the arrest. After a few moments he looked up at Gus, "So, what's next?"

"Hours of paperwork and gallons of coffee, of course," Gus said with a wry grin.

"What, no furnace this time?" Eli said with a smirk.

"Not for you rookie, you gotta earn your stripes first."

"Figures," Eli said with a snort, returning to his note taking.

"Hey," Gus said.

Eli looked up at him again.

The bear patted his shoulder with a broad paw. "Good work tonight, kid," he said, "We'll make something of you yet."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm still alive, and no, this story isn't dead! Whee.
> 
> Finally have some time off, so I managed to finish this chapter. Hopefully this bodes well for the future. Hope everyone enjoys it, and I thank my long-suffering readers for their great patience! ^_^

Eli was annoyed to find that his father’s words intruded into his mind at a time like this, and yet he could hear them as clearly as the ringing in his ears:

“ _Experience is a cruel teacher; it first gives the test, then provides the lesson afterward_ _s_ _._ ”

As his back slammed into the door of a parked car, starbursts sparked in his vision, and a vile metallic taste washed over his tongue – the first time he had tasted his own blood – Eli knew it was true.

The first six months of his career had been going so well. He’d hit it off with Gus, who already seemed impressed with his dedication and work ethic. Together they’d made numerous arrests, seized drugs, guns, proceeds of crime and recovered stolen goods and vehicles. It was because of this success however, that he’d allowed himself to lapse into complacency at just the wrong moment.

His mistake had been twofold: standing too close and not keeping his paws high enough. The resulting lesson had been a painful one. It came in the form of a left, right combo from a drunk, surly, police-hating tiger who had a warrant for drunk and disorderly conduct. The burly cat stood laughing hysterically, slapping his knee with a huge orange and white paw.

“This is what you get for thinkink you are _real cop_ ,” he slurred with a trace of a Rawrrsian accent, “Filthy stiltfox!”

“You okay, kid?” Gus began, taking a step toward Eli. Before he could take another, however, Eli was back on his feet. He spat a gob of blood onto the concrete, wiping the remainder from his lip with the back of his paw.

“Oh, what, you want more!?” the tiger said in a slurred growl, taking a lurching step toward Eli, “What you think you gonna do, huh? Get face caved in is what!”

Gus growled low in his throat, and was about to pull his taser when Eli’s voice interrupted him.

“ _N_ _o_ _..._ ” Eli said, his voice a deep growl.

Gus glanced back at Eli: his lips were curled back into a vicious snarl, revealing all of his dagger sharp, blood spattered teeth. His eyes were wide and fixed on the tiger. Judging by the look on his face, Gus expected a roar from the maned wolf, but when Eli spoke again his voice was low and unnervingly calm.

“ _You are under arrest,_ ” he said slowly, “Get on the ground _now_ ; this is your last warning.” He punctuated his statement by drawing his collapsible baton and snapping it open with loud clack.

Something seemed to come over the tiger; the fur along the back of his neck bristled and his ears flattened against his head, his wide-eyed, flame yellow gaze fixing on Eli. He cracked his knuckles, his lips drawing back into a snarl. “Oh this is how it is, yes?” he growled, “Fine, then...I will just have to snap you in half, _kalancha_...”

Gus aimed his taser at the raging tiger, but Eli’s voice again halted him.

“No... _he’s mine_ ,” Eli said.

Before Gus could protest, the tiger lunged at Eli with shocking speed, lashing out with a vicious slash.

Eli sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the razor claws of the tiger, and brought his baton’s tip crashing down over the back of the tiger’s paw. There was a loud crunch as steel shattered bones.

The tiger bellowed in fury and agony, stumbling forward. Eli raised his baton and delivered another savage strike to the forearm, but the tiger just managed to catch the tip in his good paw. Without missing a beat, Eli grabbed the baton with both paws and twisted it sharply in a spiral motion, ripping it from the tiger’s grasp and slamming the butt end across his face. He followed through by stabbing the butt cap into the tiger’s side. One of his ribs caved in with a loud crack.

The tiger screamed and lashed out furiously, the back of his paw slamming across Eli’s face and sending him flying again. This time, Eli managed to land on his paws, sliding back along the concrete. His vision swam, darkening around the edges. Not a good sign.

With terrifying speed, the tiger, lunged and pinned him on his back, raising his paw with claws unsheathed, preparing to tear Eli’s face off.

Eli slipped his baton in front of the elbow of the tiger’s bracing arm, gripping it with both paws and slamming the shaft against the inside of the joint. It buckled, throwing the huge animal off balance and forcing him to catch himself with his raised paw rather than shredding Eli’s face with it.

Snaking the baton behind the tiger’s neck and gripping it with both paws, Eli bucked with his hips and rammed the baton against the tiger’s jugular, flipping him onto his back. He instantly raked it up over the tiger’s head and butt stroked him across the face, springing back off him and preparing for more.

The tiger roared in blind fury, descending into total savagery as he scrambled onto all fours and launched himself, arm raised for a vicious strike. Eli stepped in, slashing his baton across the inside of his opponent’s elbow while blocking his wrist with the other paw. Instantly, he grabbed the wrist, dropped his weight, wrapped the baton arm around the tiger’s arm and jammed the tip up under his chin. Wrenching with all his weight and twisting his hips violently, Eli used the baton as a lever and flipped the tiger off his paws, the momentum slamming him hard onto his back on the concrete. His skull hit the pavement with a loud crack, blacking him out.

In a flash of motion, Eli flipped him over and wrenched his arms behind his back. “ _GUS, CUFFS!_ ” he roared, twisting the tiger’s arm into position.

Gus pulled out his larger cuffs, a set big enough for the tiger’s thick wrists, and tossed them to Eli. With remarkable dexterity, Eli snapped them in place, securing the huge cat’s arms behind his back. Heaving a sigh of relief, he double locked the cuffs to ensure they wouldn’t tighten or allow the tiger any chance of picking them. He knelt with one knee on the tiger’s back, panting heavily and watching the droplets of his blood patter intermittently on the tiger’s shirt.

Gus was on the tiger in seconds, pinning his shoulder to the pavement with his knee, ensuring he wouldn’t be moving any time soon. “I got him kid...take a breather,” he said.

Eli fell back onto his rump, his arm over his knee, his baton hanging loosely from his fingers as he stared, panting. Finally, he drew a long, deep breath to steady himself, the coppery taste of blood coating his tongue. After a few moments, he spat it out, gathered himself, and struggled to a stand. He closed the baton on the sidewalk and slipped it back into its scabbard.

The tiger’s eyes fluttered open and he turned his head with a low groan, staring at Eli in bewilderment.

“As I was saying,” Eli said, wiping away the blood from his muzzle, “You are under arrest for disorderly conduct and assault of a police officer. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have a right to an attorney; if you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand?”

The cat merely lay staring in disbelief, a look of shock and horror on his face.

Previously, Eli hadn’t noticed the pain, but as the rush of adrenaline thundering through his veins began to dissipate, searing agony replaced it. His ribs burned with a fierce throbbing; it seemed likely at least a few might be broken. Every muscle from his knees to the base of his neck screamed as if they had all been torn to shreds from the exertion. An ambulance felt like a nice idea right then, but he couldn’t let even one split second of weakness show. It was all he could do to clench his teeth and growl out the words from the back of his throat, “I said, _do you understand?_ ”

The reply was a faint nod.

Gus stood up and grabbed the tiger by the scruff of the neck, hoisting him and half dragging him to the squad car parked nearby. “Now get in there and keep quiet, you damn sloppy drunk, or I’ll whup you twice as hard as the rookie just did!” he said, opening the door and tossing the tiger inside.

As he slammed the door, Gus turned to Eli with a broad, toothy grin, “Well, _dang_ , kid! You sure got guts, I’ll give you that!”

Eli could barely manage a grin and a nod in reply, but he mustered it up and made it as convincing as possible.

“You all right?” Gus asked, looking him over, “Taking down a tiger’s no joke, even for a bear like me.”

“Yeah,” Eli said with a grin that was a twitch away from becoming a grimace, “No problem.”

Gus seemed incredulous, scrutinizing Eli for a moment as he stroked absently at his bristle-furred chin. “You should get checked out at ZGH anyway, just in case,” Gus said finally, “At least it’ll get you outta paperwork; I’ll do the arrest report. Least I can do for ya!”

“I really don’t—”

“Don’t argue with your coach, Rookie,” Gus said with a grin, “Get in the car.”

~0~

The ride to the hospital seemed like an eternity. Every bump and jostle shot fresh bolts of pain through Eli’s chest and up his neck. He bit down hard on his tongue, staring out the side window. He distracted himself by counting his slow, measured breaths on his finger tips as he tapped them out on the arm rest.

Finally, they pulled into the ambulance bay. Gus stopped the cruiser, shifting to park and turning to face Eli. “You sure you’re all right by yourself, kid?” he asked, a hint of concern slipping through his typical carefree tone.

Eli forced out a chuckle as he unlatched the door, stepping out without looking back. “No sweat,” he said, “I’ll call you when I’m out. Just don’t make me fill out any paperwork when I get back.”

Gus punctuated his reply with a hearty laugh, “Yeah, sure thing; you’ve suffered enough today.”

Eli shut the door behind him and stalked to the emergency room entrance. The ER teemed with activity; mammals of every species sat on benches, milled about, or waited in line to speak with triage, filling the waiting room with a dull, incessant murmur of jumbled voices. It looked like hours of waiting, and Eli hadn’t the slightest interest in becoming an inpatient.

Suddenly, he remembered that Ezra was on shift and had an idea. Putting on his most nonchalant smile, he sidled up to a unit clerk who wasn’t occupied with a patient at that moment.

The clerk, a mildly pinched looking twenty something Dall ewe with imitation tortoiseshell glasses, sat typing rapidly at a computer behind a thick acrylic window. She glanced up at Eli over the rims of her glasses as he approached, looking expectant but saying nothing.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if my brother might be on shift at the moment...” he said, undeterred by the frosty reception, his smile never fading.

Before he could say more, her face brightened considerably, a spark of recognition in her pale blue eyes. “Oh!” she said, turning her chair to face him directly, her hooves finally departing the keyboard, “You must be Ezra’s—er, Dr. Wolfram’s brother! He’s just in the back right now; let me show you in.”

“Thanks!” Eli managed to say, using all his willpower not to let on how badly hurt he was.

The ewe led him through a large pair of double doors into the back area of the ER, a huge room with rows of beds ranging from tiny booths, not unlike cubby-holes, for rodent sized mammals, all the way up to a bay the size of a large garage for mega-sized ones. The treatment alcoves lined the outer walls while the center of the room was taken up by a huge, circular nursing station, a command centre of sorts, within which was a flurry of activity. Doctors and nurses rushed back and forth, checked test results, dispensed medication, or typed on computers. Amid this bustle stood Ezra, speaking quietly with a much older horse, likely the Dr. Oates he’d mentioned at the graduation.

“Ezra!” the ewe called out, “Sorry to interrupt, Doctor, but your brother’s here!” It didn’t surprise Eli to find that the staff had such a casual manner with his brother – unlike their stodgy, abrasive father, Ezra was friendly and easy-going, the sort who made little of himself, despite having become an accomplished physician by the age of twenty one.

Ezra glanced over from his conversation with the horse, his face lighting up upon catching sight of Eli. He waved and flashed a grin. “Thanks Genny!” he said, “Could you show him to cast room one for a minute, I’ve just got to finish talking to Dr. Oates.”

“Sure thing, Doc!” Genny replied with a smile, turning to Eli and nodding toward a door set into the far wall. She walked over and pushed it open, leading him inside.

It was a small examination room with a large light on a swing arm mounted to the ceiling and an examination bed – the sort found in walk-in clinics and doctor’s offices – placed beneath it. She gestured to the bed with a wave of her hoof. “Go ahead and make yourself comfy, Officer,” she said, “Ezra’ll be along in a bit. Dr. Oates can blab on at times, though, so don’t panic if it takes a few.”

Eli nodded, barely managing to keep up a faint smile any longer through the searing pain in his sides. He stepped up and sat on the examination bed, easing himself down with a flick of his tail. The ewe vanished out the door, closing it behind her.

Those few minutes felt like hours as searing pain tore through Eli’s body. He gritted his teeth and hissed his breath between them, shutting his eyes to focus on not crying out. He was in this posture when the door opened and his jovial younger brother strolled inside, shutting it behind him.

“Hey, Eli! What brings you...” Ezra began, his voice faltering and his greeting remaining unfinished as he caught sight of his brother’s miserable form. “Good grief, what’s going on with you...? he asked, taking a step closer, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Fought a tiger,” Eli managed to growl out between gritted teeth, “Need a little help...”

“No kidding you need help! Didn’t you check yourself in with triage?”

Eli shook his head. Ezra looked horrified.

“Are you – w-what are you doing here then?!”

Eli seemed to master himself, forcing a deep breath through the pain. He fixed his brother with an earnest stare, hoping to make him understand just how important this was. “I need you to just patch me up, off the books, and give me something that can get me through the pain. I can’t miss work and I don’t want this on my official record,” he said, measuring each word carefully to ensure it came out.

Ezra frowned deeply, moving up close to examine his brother. He felt gingerly along Eli’s rib cage with his fingertips, having noted the awkward way he was sitting and his laboured breathing. Continuing his examination, he pulled a small pen light from his pocket, flashed it in each of Eli’s eyes in turn, parted his mouth and examined his teeth, then rapidly continued down his form.

Eli smiled in mild amusement as he saw an air of determination and intensity wash over Ezra; his examination was thorough, precise, careful, but without a trace of hesitation. As different as he was from their father in most respects, his professional manner was entirely the same.

“Geeze, Eli, you look like death warmed over!” Ezra breathed as he drew back, having finished his examination, “You’ve probably got at least a mild concussion, I’d say you have three broken ribs, you’re cut up and bruised all over...you should be admitted to the hospital, never mind being ‘fixed up’”

“Forget it!” Eli growled, “I told you; fix me up, _off the books_ , and I’m gone. If you won’t, I’ll figure something else out...”

“For pity sake, Eli, will you please listen to me? _You’re beat to hell_ —”

“ _You heard me, Ez, don’t make me repeat it!_ ” Eli said, a snarl curling his lip and his mane bristling.

Ezra looked mortified. Throwing down his stethoscope on a nearby counter, he began pacing the room, chewing anxiously on the claw of his right thumb, his left paw thrust into his lab coat pocket. “ _You’re exactly like him, you_ _stubborn ass_ ” he grumbled under his breath, the words barely discernible. Finally, he stopped and turned to face his older brother, thrusting his right paw into his lab coat pocket as well.

“Fine!” he said with a mild growl of annoyance tinging his voice and a defeated, chagrined look on his soft features, “I’ll fix you up as best I can and prescribe you something for the pain, and we’ll keep it out of the official record, _but I am telling you my professional opinion is that you need to be admitted!_ ”

“Your opinion is duly noted and ignored, Doctor Wolfram,” Eli said, a wry smile breaking over his muzzle in spite of his present suffering.

“Ha ha, _hilarious_ ,” Ezra retorted with sneer of mild disgust. He moved over to one of the drawers set into the counter and opened it, pulling out several items including a very wide tensor bandage, a box of bandage clips, some roll gauze and sterile dressings, and disinfectant. “Shirt off,” he ordered.

Eli unbuttoned his uniform shirt and shrugged it off, letting it fall around him on the exam table, falling silent as he watched his brother work.

Ezra set the supplies on a tray nearby and moved to another cabinet, withdrawing a syringe and a tiny vial of clear liquid. He drew up the contents of the vial into the syringe, examining it closely as the liquid filled the cylinder. He moved to his brother and took hold of his left arm, holding it up by the wrist and turning it so that the inside of his elbow faced the ceiling.

“Morphine,” Ezra remarked absently, his focus intent on the needle as he guided its tip deftly into one of Eli’s major veins, “It’ll take the edge off for now, and I’ll give you a couple other things to take with you for later.”

Disposing of the syringe, the younger maned wolf went to work carefully enveloping Eli’s torso with a snug, but not overly tight wrap of the compression bandage. “This isn’t the preferred treatment anymore,” he said, his eyes never diverting from his task, “It can restrict your breathing and lead to pneumonia if you’re not careful, but since you insist on playing the hero and refusing to rest like you should...”

The morphine acted fast, rushing through Eli’s veins and rapidly diminishing the pain’s keen edge, dulling it and pushing it back into the periphery of his awareness. He breathed a deep sigh of relief, feeling a mild sleepiness come over him. He glanced down, watching his younger brother securing the bandage and setting to work on a nasty cut on his arm.

“I’m not dad, you know,” Ezra continued, a peevish note in his voice, “You don’t have to try to score points on me like you always do with him.”

“Not sure he sees it that way,” Eli replied, the edge drained from his voice and replaced with a pensive, melancholic tone.

Ezra chuckled slightly in response. “You know dad,” he said, “Being a GP is just the ‘first step’ on my road to greatness...not good enough to be _just_ a family doc.”

“You’re a great doctor,” Eli said, “At least as good as he is. Don’t listen to his bullshit.”

“You don’t always have to be spoiling for a fight with him, either, Eli,” Ezra said, applying a bandage to another wound.

“Don’t worry about it...” Eli replied with a dismissive air, his jaw stretching wide in a yawn.

Ezra shot him an annoyed glance; he wanted to point out how Eli and their father were exactly alike in most ways, but he thought better of it, turning his attention back to his work. When he had finished his binding and bandaging, he went back to the meds cupboard and opened it, removing a few pills and a small blue puffer.

“These are for the pain,” he said, planting them in the middle of Eli’s palm, “I’ll write you a prescription for more. Take them sparingly, only one every eight hours or so. If you need to, take another half before bed to help you sleep.” He held up the blue puffer, “This is a drug that opens up your airways – normally for asthma, but you’re forcing me to get creative. If you find yourself having a hard time breathing deeply, take two puffs and suck them back as hard as you can. You’re trying to get them as deep into your lungs as possible. With any luck, you’ll avoid getting pneumonia and ending up back here as an inpatient...which you _should be_ right now, if you weren’t so darn stubborn.”

Eli started to get up, but Ezra gently pushed him back onto his rump with a paw on his chest. “I’m not finished,” Ezra continued, “You might have a mild concussion, so for goodness sake, take it easy, don’t jostle your head too much, and if you start getting weird symptoms like vertigo or blurry vision, major changes in sleep patters, stuff like that, you get back to the ER immediately – _and_ _don’t drive yourself either!_ ”

“All right, all right, doc!” Eli said, silencing his brother by ruffling the fur between his ears, “I got it. I’ll be careful.”

“I wish I could completely believe you,” Ezra said, crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m serious, Eli! You can do yourself irreparable harm if you aren’t careful with a concussion.”

“Okay, _geeze!_ ” Eli said, slipping his shirt over his shoulders and buttoning it up, “You’re worse than mom, honestly.”

Ezra chuckled and smirked, “You’re just lucky she isn’t here, or you’d be toast.”

Eli strode to the door, feeling far better than he had when he arrived. He paused briefly at the door, casting a backward glance over his shoulder. “Thanks, Ez,” he said quietly, “I owe you one.”

Ezra merely shrugged and released a quiet sigh of exasperation.

With that, Eli departed, heading quickly out of the emergency department and into the crisp evening darkness outside. He paused a moment just outside the front doors, considering what to do about a ride back to the station. He didn’t particularly want to bother Grizzwald. Figuring he could probably hitch a ride with a unit that was headed back to the station, he keyed his mic.

“Any callsign, this is Charlie Zero Two,” he said, “At ZGH in need of a ride back to HQ. Anyone headed there?”

There was a brief pause before a rough edged, gravelly voice came back over the radio. “Ahh, yeah, no problem, I’m headed there myself,” it said, strangely ignoring radio protocol, “Be there in five minutes, more or less...want me to grab you a coffee on the way?”

Eli was so surprised by the unknown voice’s casual manner over the radio that it took him a few seconds to respond. “Uh...Charlie Zero Two...no thanks...see you in 5 mikes, over,” he said at last.

A short while later, a ragged, rust-eaten, pale blue Studebarker with a white top rattled to a stop at the curb in front of the hospital. The car looked like it was one or two potholes away from falling to pieces and winding up in the scrap yard. The driver’s door opened and a squat, round shouldered coati of about forty ambled out, stepping around the hood and onto the curb. He was dressed in a frumpy, threadbare old beige trench coat, a slate gray suit and a green tie that hung loosely around the collar of his beige dress shirt. He looked a bit like a washed-up used car salesmammal, but he had a contented, self assured air that was completely at odds with his mildly dishevelled appearance. Eli finished looking him over, and resumed watching up and down the street, expecting an unmarked police cruiser would be appearing any moment.

Several seconds went by before Eli realized the peculiar coati was still standing on the sidewalk staring at him. When the squat figure lit up a cigar and blew a billowy cloud of acrid smoke into the air before resuming his staring, Eli cleared his throat, turning to meet his gaze again.

“Can I help you?” Eli asked, unable to keep a hint of annoyance from seeping into his tone.

“Well, I was wondering if you were going to get in, or if you were just going to keep taking in the scenery,” the coati replied in the same casual tone he had used on the radio.

Eli’s ears perked straight up and his eyes widened in shock and embarrassment. “Oh! Ah...I um...you’re...the um...” he stammered, realizing this strange little mammal was a police officer who surely outranked him by many levels, if he could get away with dressing like that on duty. Eli’s brain scrambled to make sense of him; was he undercover? Vice or maybe drug squad?

“Ah, of course, excuse me, pardon me, where are my manners?” the ring tailed figure interjected with a wave of his cigar, “Detective Mundi, Zooicide Division, pleasure to meet you, Officer Wolfram.” He punctuated his introduction by extending his free paw.

Eli clasped it and firmly shook it, still utterly chagrined. He swallowed hard. “Sorry about not...ah— _thanks for swinging by to pick me up_ ,” he said finally, deciding to cut his losses and just move on.

“It’s nothing,” Detective Mundi said with a dismissive wave of his right paw that left curlicues of smoke drifting from the lit cigar he held between his fingers. He lapsed back into studying Eli with a strangely contemplative expression, rubbing his chin between puffs on his cigar. “Didn’t realize how tall you’d be,” he remarked, mostly to himself.

Just as the intervening silence was about to become uncomfortable, Mundi turned back toward the car with a beckoning gesture. “Not too much leg room, but I guess you’ll fit if you work at it,” he said over his shoulder.

Eli had just finished gingerly folding himself into the passenger seat of Mundi’s car, his knees uncomfortably scrunched up and his head slightly ducked, when a sudden realization struck him. “How did you know my name?” he asked, glancing over at Mundi.

“Hmmm?” Mundi said as he cranked the ignition, “Oh! Well, you’re the first maned wolf that’s been hired since I joined, and your family name isn’t exactly obscure...” He pulled away from the curb and began driving off through the early evening traffic at a languid pace.

“So my father’s reputation precedes me again,” Eli remarked with a faint sneer that he immediately attempted to hide by adding, “Anyway, I really appreciate the ride. I want to get back to see if I can help out my field trainer with a perp we busted earlier.”

Mundi let out a knowing chuckle as he rounded a corner and shifted lanes, heading down Main Street toward the station. “Busted his face, is what I heard,” he said. “Taking on a tiger one on one...that’s quite a thing,” Mundi added, not particularly directing the remark at Eli, “Glad I wasn’t called out for _your_ murder.”

“I suppose you think it was stupid of me,” Eli said, his ears instinctively folding back.

Mundi gave a careless shrug, “I think there’s more to the story.”

He said nothing else for a long while. Eli lapsed into pensive silence, watching the darkness sinking over the city and the street lights and shop windows that punctured its thickening veil as they came on one by one. It was nearly the end of Eli’s shift by the time they arrived back at Precinct One.

Eli carefully extracted himself from Mundi’s car, turning back to offer a faint smile and a wave before heading inside. “Thanks for the ride, Detective,” he said.

“Anytime! Be seeing you,” Mundi said with a smile and a wave. With that, he chomped the stub of his cigar between his teeth and drove off, vanishing out the gate into the street within moments.

Eli watched the rattletrap car until it disappeared from view before he turned toward the station door, running his encounter with the strange little detective over and over in his mind. He was beset by a vague feeling that there was something going on during the event that he’d missed. He shook the thought from his mind as he arrived at Gus’s desk to find it empty and a sticky note posted to the Sergeant’s monitor.

_Paperwork’s done, shift’s over. See ya Monday!_

Eli stared at the note for a moment, stretching out the crick in his neck and rubbing absently at a knot in the muscle brought on by the lack of headroom in Mundi’s Studebarker. Finally he sighed, turning toward the locker room. One more rotation finished, one more rotation closer to graduating from field training. Feeling like he just got back from the front lines of a war, Eli changed into his civvies as quickly as he could manage and headed out to the back parking lot.

He was ten steps from his car when Gus’s raucous, good-natured voice halted him. “Hey kid, how ya doin? Get a clean bill of health...” he began, but he interjected a low whistle, “Is _that_ your car?”

Gus gestured to Eli’s faded wreck of a muscle car. Its paintwork was reduced to little more than rust and faded patches of its former colour, its panels dented and bits of trim missing here and there.

Eli released a faint sigh of exhaustion, shutting his eyes for a moment as he rubbed at the stubborn knot in his neck again. “Yeah, that’s my ride...I know, it’s a rust bucket, just maybe hold off busting my chops about it till tomorrow morning, wouldja...” he said with a dejected air.

“Are you kidding me?” Gus said, a broad grin spreading over his blunt muzzle, “This is a 1969 Boss Fang! This car is legendary! Where on earth did you get it?”

Eli blinked in surprise a few times as he watched Gus approach his car and reverently draw his paw over the front fender and along the A pillar, ducking to examine the interior with great interest.

“I...um...well, a friend of my dad’s had it rusting away on his property,” Eli began, watching Gus’s examination of his car with surprise and interest, “I fell in love with it the first time I laid eyes on it as a kid, maybe ten or eleven...he wanted to give it to me but my father insisted I had to earn it if I wanted it. When I was old enough to get a job I saved every penny I could and eventually I bought it.”

“Was it running when you got it?” Gus asked, slowly walking around the car, his gaze riveted to its every curve and angle.

Eli shook his head, a mildly bemused expression creeping over his muzzle, “Naw, I had to put a lot of work into it – new piston heads, spark plugs, starter, that kind of thing. It still isn’t running how I’d like – not much time to work on it.”

“Don’t suppose you’d like some help with that?” Gus said with a grin, “Just so happens I’m free this weekend. Why don’tcha come on over and meet the wife and kids, and we can do some wrenching together?”

“Is...is that okay...?” Eli said, staring wide-eyed at Gus.

Gus broke out in a laugh, “’Course it is, Rookie! Gotta have some fun now and then.”

Eli smiled, “Sure, Gus...that’d be great.”

“Yer all right, kid,” Gus said, giving Eli a gentle pat on he shoulder as he passed, heading to his own vehicle parked on the other side of the lot. “See you Saturday. And come ready to work! We’ll get that motor purring by the end of the night.”

As he watched Gus walk away with a nonchalant wave over his shoulder, Eli suddenly felt better than he had all day; it wasn’t just the morphine, either – although that was probably a factor.


End file.
